


there's a bottom to the top of the moment

by outerloops



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bottom Victor, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-25 23:52:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9852569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outerloops/pseuds/outerloops
Summary: Not for the first time, Yuuri wondered if any of his sixteen-year-old self's perception of Viktor Nikiforov would still be intact by their first anniversary.





	

Yuuri took another sip of the drink the bartender had placed in front of him and squinted. He could tell it was deceptively sweet to cover up how much alcohol was actually in it. Despite discovering early on in college that alcohol was the best social lubricant ever, he tried to stay away from it as he noticed one of two things tended to happen. Either he wakes up the next day anxiety-ridden and falling back into compulsive habits to compensate, or he has the time of his life and has to find out the fuzzy details from someone, typically Phichit. Anxiety was usually a feature of it either way.

Yuuri looked over the rim of his glass at Viktor leaning on the bar next to him. His body was angled toward Yuuri, his black sweater stretching across his chest beautifully, the sleeves of which were rolled up to his elbows. The delicate fingers of his right hand were wrapped around his glass. 

He looked good, as always, so Yuuri had caved to having “just one drink.”

They were sitting in an upscale hotel bar. The neon lights behind the bar illuminated dozens of liquor bottles and cast a fuzzy pink glow around the room. There were a few people dressed in business attire chatting at tables, but overall it was a subdued atmosphere for a Friday night.

Yuuri felt pretty good. Practice had gone well that day; he didn't mess up any of his jumps and Viktor had been generous with praise. He felt heat rush to his face as he remembered Viktor's laugh when he landed his last jump of the day, a quad flip.

_“Yuuri, just because you have the stamina doesn't mean you have to do my jump last!”_

He had done it on purpose, of course. Ever since Yuuri had just barely pulled off the quad flip in China, he and Viktor had been working to get the jump clean enough to keep doing in his long program. Yuuri decided he liked being able to do something even Viktor wouldn't have attempted that late in his program. The world kept telling him he wasn't Viktor Nikiforov-- he told them they were right.

“You did well today, Yuuri,” Viktor said, leaning in close. There was an unspoken, “Stop thinking so much.”

Yuuri knew his close friends and family had no trouble reading him, but it still surprised him when Viktor did it. He supposed he should give Viktor more credit; they had gotten a lot closer after the Cup of China when he had kissed Yuuri in front of the whole world. Everything was happening so fast lately between competitions, training, and this thing between him and Viktor. As much as he tried to reassure himself, he still found himself worrying that Viktor would evaporate into thin air once the season ended. Yuuri would wake up alone in his bed in Hasetsu, the spare room full of boxes, with no trace of dog hair to be found in his family's home.

“Yuuri,” he said again, touching Yuuri's face.

Yuuri blinked and put his hand on top of Viktor's. Viktor's brow was pulled down, his eyes searching Yuuri's face. His concern made him smile, easing his anxiety a bit.

“Thank you, Vitya.”

Viktor smiled reflexively at the name and settled back into his seat.

“So what do you think of the other skaters so far?” Viktor asked, taking another sip of his drink.

Yuuri considered.

“Well Phichit and I have been friends since we trained together in Detroit. He's a really strong skater. Chris is... Chris. But I know his scores are only going to get better as we get closer to the Grand Prix Final. JJ's scores have been through the roof so far, and Yuri's been skating amazingly well.”

Yuuri paused, taking a sip. Viktor cut in.

“Phichit is a good skater,” he began, “but you're better. Chris is either hot or cold, and right now he's cold. I don't know that he will find his motivation on his own this season, and if he doesn't, he's done for. JJ is strong, but he's arrogant, and we've yet to see how easily he can recover after a mistake. One error might do him in. And Yurio...”

He trailed off, considering.

“Yurio is young, but he's not naive. He has surprised me more this season than anyone else. He's definitely your biggest competition. But,” he went on, “if you two continue to influence each other, who knows what will happen.”

Yuuri hummed, watching a bead of condensation as he tilted his glass back and forth. The more the alcohol seeped into his system the less his life began to feel real.

He was seated at a bar next to his childhood idol, now his _coach_ , a 27-year-old figure skater who just a year ago was his competition at the Grand Prix Final. Yuuri, with all of his heart-stopping anxiety, was spending the majority of his time in countries where he couldn't speak the language. He was throwing himself through the air across a sheet of ice while balanced on two knives every single day.

Laughter bubbled up in his chest at the absurdity of it all, spilling easily out of him thanks to the warmth spreading through his bloodstream.

Viktor, god, _Viktor_ , was looking at him the same way he always did when Yuuri did something unexpected. Beautiful blue eyes watching him, wide in awe, his mouth slightly agape, then a grin split his face, eyes closing for an instant as he began to laugh too.

Yuuri had never met someone who so naturally fell on his wavelength. Viktor seemed to vibrate beside him always.

Yuuri recovered and drained the last of his drink, setting the empty glass down pointedly. He put his hand on Viktor's shoulder to steady himself as he got down from the bar stool. Viktor was warm, solid, soft, and an endless contradiction of things that Yuuri's attention revolved around lately.

Viktor was watching his face expectantly.

“You had your drink,” Yuuri said, meeting his eyes, “now let's go back to the room.”

“Okay,” Viktor agreed with a smile, draining what what left of his own glass before hopping down.

He tossed some bills onto the bar then followed Yuuri to the elevator. Yuuri had already pressed the button when Viktor sidled up to him, bumping their shoulders together. Yuuri smiled sideways at him but didn't engage. The ride up to their floor was quick and soon they were toeing their shoes off inside their room.

Viktor sat down on one of the beds, Yuuri close on his heels. He climbed smoothly into Viktor's lap and laced his fingers behind Viktor's head like he'd done it a thousand times before. Viktor's hands came up to hold Yuuri by the waist and then they were at stalemate.

“So,” Yuuri started, settling into a comfortable position.

“So this is new,” Viktor responded with a smile, not seeming the least bit surprised anymore.

“Well, you kissed me on national television and didn't even buy me dinner first,” Yuuri said, sinking his fingers into Viktor's hair.

Viktor laughed at that and pulled Yuuri in closer.

“I bought you a drink, didn't I?”

Viktor laughed again as Yuuri swatted at him.

“Besides,” he went on, “Nobody said you couldn't buy me dinner.”

Yuuri raised his eyebrows at him.

“Maybe I want to be wooed,” Viktor said against Yuuri's ear as he wound his arms around Yuuri's back.

Yuuri could tell he meant it as an offhand comment, but he considered it anyway. By most standards, he'd never wooed anyone before. Buying Viktor dinner, taking him out, taking him to _bed_. Unexpectedly, heat rose in his belly at the thought. Yuuri wasn't naive, and he had given some thought to how things were going to play out with Viktor. He had imagined this scenario, having a drink with Viktor, getting a little tipsy, coming back to the hotel room, finally getting his hands on him off the ice-- and Viktor would do his part; he would step up and take control, guide Yuuri's hands, and initiate each step as it came. Yuuri knew he had more experience with this after all, having shared his (all things considered, surprisingly short) love history with Yuuri after only a few days of knowing him back in Hasetsu, some of which had included men.

Yuuri hadn't considered until now that there was more than one option.

“What do you think I'm doing?” Yuuri said, pushing lightly on Viktor's chest, urging him back.

He didn't know the intimate details of Viktor's sex life; he had at least spared some detail in discussing it right off the bat, but Yuuri wanted to do what felt right. This felt really right.

Viktor had that wide-eyed, adoring look again as he scooted up the bed, laying back against the pillows. His confidence boosted, Yuuri touched his fingers to Viktor's parted lips, settling his weight down more firmly against his hips. Viktor's tongue darted out to meet Yuuri's fingers half a second before he could call it back, just barely grazing Yuuri's skin.

Yuuri really looked at him then, laying back against the bed, eyes half-lidded, breaths coming in short bursts already. Heat radiated through him again when he wondered just how long it had been since Viktor had been fucked.

He rolled his hips down experimentally and was rewarded with a breathy moan, Viktor's hands still squeezing at his hips. Yuuri leaned forward and finally kissed him, chest pressed flush against him. He pushed the hem of Viktor's shirt up and slid his hand under the fabric, gripping as much of his hip as he could fit in his hand before moving up to palm at the swell of his chest. Viktor's hands moved down to grab at Yuuri's ass, pulling him in closer as Yuuri started to kiss down Viktor's jaw and neck.

“Yuuri,” he whispered, swallowing hard.

Yuuri held his head to the side with one hand as he mouthed along his neck, nuzzling against the stubble at his jaw. His fingers flexed in Viktor's hair, the muscles in his neck pulling taut as he let out another breathy moan. He arched his back, looking sideways at Yuuri through his lashes. Another wave of heat rolled through Yuuri, aching between his legs.

He pushed up on one elbow to look down at Viktor. His desire was overwhelming; he wanted to stuff his fingers in Viktor's mouth, wanted to watch the drool drip down his chin while Viktor kept his half-lidded eyes on him the whole time. He wanted to shove Viktor's legs open and rut against him until they both came in their pants. He wanted Viktor to beg for Yuuri to fuck him into the mattress. He wanted to do filthy things he'd only ever thought about alone in his bed with his eyes screwed shut and his hand down his pants.

It wasn't always Viktor in his fantasies. There had been others before, more accessible than the outstretched hand of a poster on a wall. A boy with kind eyes on the train, a server in a restaurant who winked when he set the bill down on the table, his number scrawled on the other side. Yuuri had always been interested, but never enough to overcome the anxiety that outlined the edges of his comfort zone. Until now.

“Yuuri,” he said again, “I wanna see you.”

His heart beating fast against his chest, Yuuri swallowed and sat back on his heels to pull his shirt over his head, almost knocking his glasses off his face in the process. Viktor laughed softly, reaching up and pulling them off, placing them carefully on the night stand. The world took on softer edges after that and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

“You too,” he murmured, tugging Viktor's shirt up.

He complied, letting it drop to the floor and stretching his arms over his head, so obviously showing off that Yuuri couldn't even call him on it. He ran his hands over Viktor's chest again, leaning forward to mouth at his shoulder, his collar bone, and down to his abdomen. He looked up questioningly and found Viktor staring down at him, lip between his teeth and his hands clenched in the pillow behind his head.

“Please, Yuuri,”

Yuuri didn't know the last time he'd been this turned on. Usually when he needed to get off it was quickly taken care of with little preamble. This was something else.

He started to undo Viktor's pants, Viktor eagerly lifting his hips to help him get them off. Then Yuuri was met with the sight of Viktor's cock, thick and straining against the fabric of his underwear. He immediately pressed his mouth to the base of it, sucking in a deep breath as he nosed along his balls through the material. Masculine, thick and heady, the smell of him made Yuuri groan. Viktor usually just smelled nice, fresh and clean if he had recently showered, or sometimes like a specific brand of cologne if they were going out. Even at the end of practice, he didn't smell like _this_. He smelled like arousal and Yuuri couldn't get enough of it.

Yuuri could hear Viktor's breathing coming fast and shallow but didn't dare look up. He hooked his fingers under the elastic of his underwear and tugged them off. Viktor's cock jumped when Yuuri gripped the base of it firmly, sliding his hand up to the tip experimentally, then slowly back down again. Viktor whimpered and Yuuri finally looked up at him.

“I'm just doing what I think would feel good to me,” he said. “You have to tell me how you like it.”

Viktor swallowed, nodding quickly. Then, when Yuuri kept watching him, his hand still, he cleared his throat, “Uh, can you put your mouth on it?”

Yuuri laughed at that, the corners of his eyes crinkling fondly.

“Yeah, I can put my mouth on it.”

Viktor groaned, laying his arm over his eyes. Yuuri got comfortable, settling down between Viktor's legs and folding his own beneath him. Holding him loosely in his hand, Yuuri licked a broad stripe from base to tip, suckling at the head where a bead of precum had swelled up. He swirled his tongue around the head, running the flat of his tongue against the underside. He started a slow rhythm with hand, probing the slit with the tip of his tongue. Viktor's hands were suddenly on either side of Yuuri's head, pulling Yuuri back as his hips thrust forward.

A small string of spit still connected them, Yuuri's lips wet and his eyes wide.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Yuuri, no,” Viktor said, pushing his hair out of his eyes as his head hit the pillow again.

He stared at the ceiling as he spoke.

“It feels amazing. It's just been a while. I don't want to overwhelm you,” he said, “and I want you to be comfortable.”

Yuuri could sense Viktor was dancing around something and he narrowed his eyes.

“Viktor, please don't ruin this for me.”

The sudden change in his tone made Viktor pick his head up again but Yuuri was already crawling toward him. He pressed Viktor back against the pillows, leaning over him.

“I want your dick in my mouth, and I want it messy, and I don't want you to worry about whether or not I'm enjoying it because I _am_. I've wanted this for so long. I need you to trust me to tell you when something is too much.”

There was a faint pink on Viktor's cheeks now, his mouth slightly agape.

“And besides,” Yuuri went on with a coy smile, settling back between Viktor's legs, “you know better than anyone else that I learn best through practice and positive reinforcement.”

He didn't wait to hear Viktor's response, closing his lips around the head of his cock and pulling back with delicious suction. Viktor did buck his hips up then, but Yuuri handled it smoothly, laying his free arm across Viktor's hips while stroking the base of his cock with his other hand. Yuuri worked his way a little further down with each bob of his head, getting used to the weight of Viktor's dick against his tongue. Viktor was moaning out a stream of praise, most of it Yuuri was impressed was in English.

_“Yes, Yuuri-- fuck, you're so good-- ahh, just like that-- mmmff.”_

Yuuri pushed in close, Viktor's long legs falling over his shoulders as he let go of his hips and reached down to cup Viktor's balls. His nose bumped into his fist so he loosened his grip, bobbing his head until his nose was pressed into the short hair at the base of his cock. Viktor let out a long moan, hands winding into Yuuri's hair and holding him in place. Yuuri couldn't help but moan too, drool dripping out the corner of his stretched lips, mouth stuffed with Viktor's cock. He reminded himself to breathe through his nose even as his cock throbbed between his legs. Viktor started thrusting shallowly into Yuuri's mouth, hands gripping the back of his head. Drool dripped down his chin with every thrust as he let his jaw go slack, moaning unashamedly around Viktor's dick.

“Yuuri, fuck-- I'm not gonna last much longer,” he bit out, gasping as Yuuri's hands came up to rest on his hips, pulling off his cock with as much suction as he could manage.

Yuuri sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Viktor's cheeks were pink, his eyes half lidded, lips red and parted, breaths coming in quick bursts. He could only imagine what he looked like by the way Viktor was staring at him.

“Come here,” Yuuri said, laying down next to him.

Viktor put his leg over Yuuri's waist and rolled into his lap, his soft smile at odds with his painfully straining cock.

“These have got to go,” Viktor murmured, unbuttoning Yuuri's pants and helping him pull them off.

Finally out of both their clothes, Viktor leaned forward and kissed Yuuri. He cupped his hand behind Yuuri's cock pushing himself forward into his hand and stroking them together lazily. Yuuri's fingers clenched into the thick muscle of Viktor's ass, pulling him closer. He followed the dip of Viktor's ass and pressed in, circling the pad of his finger around his hole. 

Viktor moaned, his cock leaking into his hand as his stroking became sloppier.

“Wait,” Viktor said, hopping off the bed and rummaging through his luggage.

When he returned he was holding a small bottle of lube with another sheepish grin.

“I'm not surprised,” Yuuri laughed, “I thought I was gonna have to tell you I already know how to use that.”

Viktor rolled his eyes, climbing back into Yuuri's lap.

“There's a condom too. You sure you don't need help with that?”

Yuuri laughed again, urging Viktor up higher so he could reach back easier. Yuuri slipped one lubricated finger in easily, Viktor's hole clenching around him as he pulled back out. Viktor shuddered, hiding his face in Yuuri's neck as he added another finger. He moaned at the stretch, spreading his legs and going boneless against Yuuri's body. Yuuri wrapped his free arm around Viktor, pressing kisses to his ear, his neck, whatever he could reach.

“You're so good, Viktor, you feel so good.”

He curled his fingers, searching. The angle was different than what he was used to on himself but Viktor's sharp inhale told him when he found it. He pressed in insistently against Viktor's prostate, tears prickling to Viktor's eyes as he moaned, high-pitched and desperate, rutting against Yuuri's abdomen.

“Fuck, Yuuri-- _fuck_ , I wanna come so bad.”

Yuuri slipped his fingers out of him then, his hole clenching against the absence. Viktor whined in protest, but Yuuri pushed him up to a sitting position again. He rolled the condom on and poured some more lube on to his fingers, coating his cock liberally. Laying back against the pillows and holding his dick up for him, Yuuri looked at Viktor expectantly.

A beat passed.

“You want me to ride you?”

Yuuri laughed at the dubious tone of his voice.

“Why, is that too much work for you?”

Viktor turned pink.

“Of course not,” he said, moving to line himself up with Yuuri's cock.

He pressed down slowly, the first delicious stretch making his mouth drop open. His hands were pressed firmly against Yuuri's chest, holding himself up as he bounced on the head a few times. He arched his back, wiggling his hips side to side as Yuuri's cock disappeared inside of him. They both let out a long moan when Viktor bottomed out, firmly seated in Yuuri's lap.

Yuuri was struggling to keep his eyes open. He wanted to memorize every detail of Viktor's fucked-out, cock-stuck-up-his-ass, beautiful expressions. His head tipped back as he ground down against Yuuri, mouth hanging open, throat bared. Yuuri lifted his hips off the bed, making Viktor bounce a little when he came down with him. A bitten off laugh escaped from Viktor and he shook his head, spreading his hands across Yuuri's chest. He shifted his weight on to his knees and pulled off until just the head of Yuuri's dick was still inside of him before descending again, agonizingly slow.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, going for demure, but his voice only came out strained, the syllables breaking when Yuuri's cock pressed against his prostate again.

“I don't think it's what you want,” Yuuri whispered, taking hold of his wrists.

He gently pulled Viktor forward until they were face to face again, Viktor's weight back on Yuuri. Yuuri kissed him once, chaste. Then he drew his knees up, planting his feet on the bed, and started pounding up into Viktor with as much leverage as he could manage. Viktor cried out, back arching reflexively even as he hid his face in Yuuri's neck. His fingers dug into Yuuri's shoulders, holding on as Yuuri thrust up into him, hands grabbing at Viktor's ass and spreading his cheeks apart.

Neither of them lasted long after that. Viktor came with a long moan, fucking up against the soft skin of Yuuri's belly. Yuuri came with his arms wrapped tightly around Viktor, speaking softly in his ear as he orgasmed around Yuuri's dick.

They stayed like that for a while, until Yuuri could feel himself softening before he gently pulled out. Viktor moaned softly at the loss, taut muscles clenching and relaxing for a few seconds. He reluctantly rolled off of Yuuri, grimacing down at the mess on both of their bellies. Yuuri got up and padded to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth in his hand. He cleaned Viktor off first, making sure to press the moist heat to his swollen hole. Viktor's eyes slipped closed and Yuuri combed the hair off his forehead.

“There's a tub in the bathroom, if you're interested,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to his head.

“Mm, I might be,” Viktor said, turning to look at him, “if you'll join me.”

As it turned out, Viktor kept a stash of bath bombs with him at all times, even when traveling, and soon the whole suite smelled like peppermint and cedarwood.

“I'd tell you you're ridiculous, but this is really nice actually,” Yuuri said, eyes closing as his head lolled back against the rim of the jacuzzi tub.

Viktor was facing him, his knees peaking out of the water and his legs sprawled across Yuuri's. He sunk down until his chin touched the water.

“When I was younger and traveling for competitions, this was sometimes the only way I could get myself to fall asleep. It wasn't really that I was nervous about performing. There was just something about hotels I found so sterile and cold. Almost like a hospital.”

Yuuri lifted his head.

“Does it feel like that now?”

Viktor smiled.

“No.”

He thought for a moment.

“It kind of became my ritual before competing. I'd find the nearest soap shop in whatever city we were visiting and clean them out,” he huffed a laugh. “It was never something I did at home.”

“Why not?”

“Too lazy to clean the tub.”

Yuuri laughed, shaking his head.

“Some of the bath bombs have glitter!” Viktor said, laughing too. “They can be a nightmare.”

Suddenly Yuuri wouldn't meet his eyes, face turning a little pink.

“I don't mind cleaning,” he said, trying for a neutral tone. “It helps clear my head.”

Viktor smiled, pushing off the wall of the tub and coming over to Yuuri's side, settling back against his chest. He could feel Yuuri's heart beating fast where they were pressed together.

“You should come visit St. Petersburg,” he said, lacing his fingers through Yuuri's, turning his hand over in front of them. “After you win me a gold medal.”

Viktor could hear Yuuri's smile when he spoke.

“Okay, coach.”

~

Months later, sitting in a restaurant with Viktor and Chris, plied by alcohol and Chris' coaxing, the topic of their first time will come up.

“Come on, you guys were so secretive-- it was really will-they-or-won't-they for a while there.”

Eventually they'll give in, and Yuuri will go on about their first kiss, then the weeks of anticipation, finally leading up to the night in their hotel room. He'll talk about how he's so glad that Viktor let him be in control when he was so anxious and inexperienced, and how he never dreamed Viktor would be so willing to be pliant and passive for him while he figured everything out.

Chris will blink, eyes wide like it's Christmas day, looking between Yuuri and Viktor who suddenly has his head in his hands.

“Seriously?” he'll laugh, hand over his mouth, “I mean sure, when he's skating Viktor is Mr. Suave and in control, but in bed he's is a total pillow princess!”

Not for the first time, Yuuri will wonder if any of his sixteen-year-old self's perception of Viktor Nikiforov will still be intact by their first anniversary.

(He doesn't mind too terribly.)

**Author's Note:**

> outerloops.tumblr.com


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